When in the state of hard contemplation<\/p>\n
I am hit by the thought:<\/p>\n
When will my work on earth be done?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Much have I travelled on the contours of imagination,<\/p>\n
Much have I hammered on the anvil of my soul,<\/p>\n
Where to go what to do?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
God gave me only a small gift:<\/p>\n
Noble thoughts and words to weave them in,<\/p>\n
The mosaic thus created would be my work.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Then there was something else:<\/p>\n
Wiping the last tears from men,<\/p>\n
Turning the world to tranquility.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In the fiendish furnaces of the world<\/p>\n
I strove to save a soul,<\/p>\n
In the treacherous trenches of life I discovered beauty.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But now my course has finished,<\/p>\n
I am done with my dreams and duty,<\/p>\n
Still the conscience wounds if my work is done.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Suffern, New York, May 19, 2018<\/p>\n